


spaghetti struggles

by summerlabeouf



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Hank, Fluff, Post Revolution, and trying to cook for hank, connor and hank are living together, connor being domestic, mr concerned for hank's health, son connor, when u try ur best but u dont succeed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerlabeouf/pseuds/summerlabeouf
Summary: “Cook? You can cook?” Hank almost ridiculed, which made Connor shrug.“I’ve got the recipe in my head. How hard could it be?”





	spaghetti struggles

**Author's Note:**

> henlo tis bri! this is my first dbh fic so pls be gentle weeee
> 
> thanks for reading! leave a kudos, comment or critic yeeHaw

“What the fuck is this?”

Hank frowned at the android, who was trying to carefully unload the brown grocery bags from his arms. With a big smile, Connor faced Hank and raised his eyebrows slightly.

“I’m going to make you some food tonight. Fast food has a bad impact on your body with unnecessary saturated fats and dietary cholesterol. You’re consuming three times the normal calorie intake,” Connor stated.

Oh dear, Hank pinched the bridge of his nose and released a deep sigh. Every night, he had ordered either takeout from the nearby Chicken Feed or pizza joint. This was Hank’s routine every night for three years and if he was going to be honest, the fast food was getting to his body. However, Hank never had the energy or patience to cook up anything of his own. That’s why he consistently ordered unhealthy, fatty food from fast food outlets.

Ever since Connor started living with him, the android had been persistent about Hank starting a healthier diet. Once, Connor tried to exchange Hank’s chicken burger with a vegetarian version. That disgraceful burger had been thrown outside the window as quickly as Hank thought about giving up drinking.

So Connor decided to take baby steps. Maybe making homemade food without the extra fats, oils and grease that was present in fast food.

“Cook? You can cook?” Hank almost ridiculed, which made Connor shrug.

“I’ve got the recipe in my head. How hard could it be?”

–

Turns out it was very difficult. Connor was a highly intelligent android who could analyse anything from a crime scene and figure out what happened in less than five minutes. He had been the one who released thousands of androids from CyberLife single handedly.

Yet here he was. Struggling to make spaghetti Bolognese.

At first, things went quite smoothly. He had boiled the pasta in hot water, cut up some onions and meat for the sauce and prepared all the necessary cooking equipment.

It all started going downhill when he had to start making the sauce.

The recipe he found on his database called for certain exact measurements, but Connor couldn’t find any measuring equipments in Hank’s kitchen. Which was obviously no surprise since the older man didn’t ever cook. Connor decided to go against the recipe and just throw in whatever felt right.

To put it in a simple way, Connor’s estimation cooking skills were totally off.

He had overcooked the pasta for ten minutes since he was so distracted by the sauce. In the end, the yellow noodles turned into one big pile of mush.

Peering over the pot, Connor frowned as he tried to stir the sauce. (That was, by the way, too thick. But Connor didn’t know that.) The smell wafting out of the pot wasn’t that horrible, Connor thought to himself. He took a small spoon and scooped some sauce up before tasting it.

Connor never ate so he couldn’t really tell what he was tasting was good or not. He was an android. Androids don’t have tastebuds, at least Connor’s model didn’t. The RK800 was made to investigate crime scenes, not cook.

Determined to give Hank a homemade dinner anyways, Connor switched off the stove and began plating up the food. Although there was only one person who would be eating in the house, Connor made enough pasta and sauce for a whole family of five.

If Hank likes it, he can keep eating it for days. Maybe he’ll finally realize how much better home cooked food is as compared to junk food.

“Hank! It’s all done now!” Connor yelled from the kitchen.

He cleaned away some of the equipment as he heard Hank’s footsteps become louder. When the older man reached the kitchen, he sniffed the air and shrugged.

“Don’t smell too bad,” he mused, sitting down at the kitchen table.

Eagerly, Connor strolled over towards the dining table and sat down opposite him. He folded his hands on top of one another and patiently waited for Hank to try the spaghetti.

Hank twirled the pasta around the fork, a mannerism Connor noticed humans use when they eat any type of pasta. Shoving a forkful of hot pasta in his mouth, Hank chewed for a few seconds before his eyes widened.

Immediately, Hank spat out the pasta. He began groaning out loud and blowing raspberries, trying to rid the taste off his tongue.

“Jesus Christ, Connor! Why is it so fucking salty?” Hank complained, rushing over to the fridge to get a beer.

Connor sat at the dining table, disappointment filling his body. It had been that bad then. He didn’t understand why, wasn’t a tablespoon basically a lot of salt? As he watched Hank chug down a beer, he couldn’t help but feel disheartened by his failure to make spaghetti.

This was probably a task even a human child could do, he thought to himself bitterly.

“I apologize, Hank. Had I known it would be bad, I wouldn’t have served it to you. It’s just.. I can’t tell, since I don’t ever eat and all? I really tried. I’m deeply sorry, I promise I won’t cook again.”

Hank put down his beer bottle and glanced sympathetically at the andoird. He now felt bad for acting so negatively towards the food. Connor had put in a lot of effort, something no one had ever done for Hank in so long. Guilt washed over him and Hank waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s alright, son. Come on, follow me. We’ll go to a good Italian restaurant so you know how it’s done,” Hank grinned, grabbing his jacket, “if they’re still open that is.”

The older man started to walk out of the door when he realized Connor wasn’t following him. He paused, turning around to look at the android.

“You coming or what?”

Connor merely looked down at the ground, scratching the back of his neck. Where did he pick that up from?

“I feel incredibly guilty for ruining your dinner. I just wanted you to have a nice homemade meal so that you’d stop eating unhealthy food. Seems to me I’ve failed in doing so,” Connor uttered, his brown eyes shining with sadness.

“Hey, listen to me, kid,” Hank stepped forward and put his hand on Connor’s shoulder, “it’s okay to fail. That’s the best part about being alive, damn it. Making mistakes so that you can learn from them and better yourself. It happens to humans and I’m sure it happens to androids too. Despite what those sacks of shits at CyberLife tell you, you’re not perfect. Nobody is.

“And don’t worry about the food. Yeah, it was bad. Doesn’t mean you should give up after that. I had to learn that in worse ways. Just try again next time, alright? I’ll help you too if you need it.”

The android looked up from the floor and smiled a little.

“That makes me feel significantly better. Thank you, Hank.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, we don’t have all day.” 


End file.
